


Flowers for Hannah

by wcdarling



Category: Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Gen, Genocide, Holocaust, Vampires, World War II, historical fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 08:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7215706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wcdarling/pseuds/wcdarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of a young girl rescued snatched from the jaws of evil by a creature of the night. Dedicated to the Survivors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers for Hannah

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2001, this was my take on how one of Anne Rice's 20th century more humanized, less sinister vampires might have intervened in a particularly horrific situation. I also (SPOILER!) just wanted to write a Jewish vampire.

Hannah was at her worktable when she heard the phone. Joseph answered it after two rings. There was a package downstairs, he said. Herr Gottlieb's monthly package. Would she like him to go down and get it, he asked? Hannah nodded. She needed to finish her drawing. Joseph left the room as Hannah, as she did so often, began to remember that day. 

* * *

It was just about lunchtime and the hall was filled with the smell of fresh bread and beef soup. The voices of the old women wafted from the kitchen out into the main hall, where the younger women stayed with their babies, children played, and the old men sat and talked, gesturing with their hands, pointing at heavy leather-bound books. Some of the men sat alone, praying, heads bowed, murmuring the words they repeated every day in deference to God.

Hannah was in the corner sitting in the fancy red velvet chair. It was her favorite place to sit. It was such a big chair and when she sat in it, she felt like she was a queen. She did live in a castle after all. Her mother had told her it was only a very grand house but she had no doubt it was a castle. Look at the fancy furniture, the high ceilings, the carved wood, the paintings all over the walls. Next to her was a fireplace that was bigger than her old bedroom! What she liked even better than the fireplace, however, was the little closet set into the wall next to the fireplace. The door was hidden and Hannah had found the secret to open it. It was her special hiding place.

At the moment, however, Hannah was waiting for lunch. On her lap she had a pad of paper and was drawing a picture using a set of nice drawing pencils. The pencils had come from Herr Gottlieb, just like everything else -- her clothes, the chair, the food, the great house. She was drawing a picture of flowers, the flowers Herr Gottlieb had brought in the night before. Such beautiful flowers. The gardens at the house were used for growing food and raising the animals. There was no room for growing flowers. But, Herr Gottlieb said, it was spring, and even if they all had to be in hiding, they should have something of the spring. Hannah drew Herr Gottlieb surrounded by vases of flowers.

His hair was the same color as her papa's only it was trimmed much shorter and it had a wonderful shine to it that reminded Hannah of a black horse from their village. One night Herr Gottlieb had been sitting with the children, telling stories, and Hannah had reached out and touched his head. He had smiled at her as she told him it felt as soft as rabbit fur. She tried to make it look soft in the drawing, although really it was difficult to show so she made it a little curlier instead.

Herr Gottlieb had the same nose as many of the men, including her papa, sharp and thin with a crook to it. Hannah's nose was straight like her mother's but she had always liked this other kind of nose because when you saw that, you could tell that probably the person was Jewish. Her mother had told her not to count on that because it wasn't always true, but still Hannah always thought it. Herr Gottlieb was certainly Jewish.

Hannah thought about her papa as she drew. Even though it had been a long time since she had seen him, she still thought on him often. The last time she had seen him, he had been upset. He had been afraid of something. At the time, Hannah hadn't known what it could be. He and his mother had both seemed afraid and then one day they had argued. Hannah had been hiding off to the side but when she started to cry, Papa had called her in.

"Hannah," he had said to her, kneeling down to look into her face, "please don't cry. Be a good girl. Be strong. I need you to be strong." He had looked up at Mama and then turned back to her. "I love you very much, but soon, I don't know when, I may be going away. I do not want to go away, but I may have no choice. When I leave, you will be good, yes?" Hannah had nodded and Papa had put his hand on her head and said a blessing. Then he had told her to go back to her room and draw.

The next evening, men had come to the door and asked to see Papa. Normally Mama was kind to visitors, but this time, Hannah had noticed she would barely open to door. The strangers had asked for Papa again and Hannah had heard her mother say he wasn't home. Hannah had known this wasn't true. Why was Mama hiding Papa? The voices outside had grown louder and finally Hannah had heard the sound of the door, forced open, hitting the wall behind. Hannah had rushed into the room and saw soldiers holding her mama off to the side as other soldiers held her father and moved him towards the door.

"Where are you taking my papa?" Hannah had asked.

"Your father is going on a trip, little girl," one of the soldiers had said slowly. "Now go back to your room."

Hannah had taken one more look at her father, who had nodded his head. "I love you, Hannah," he had said. "Promise me you'll always draw beautiful pictures." Hannah had promised and returned to her room.

A moment later she had heard Papa say goodbye to Mama. The door had closed and suddenly the only sound had been her mama crying. Hannah had peaked into the room but when Mama had seen her, she had waved her away. "Go draw, Hannah, please go draw. Papa has only gone on a trip. He will be back. I will miss him, but he will be back, he will be back... he will be back." Mama's voice had collapsed into a sob as Hannah had left.

Papa didn't come back. Most of the other men were gone as well. Soldiers had come and taken them all on a trip. Hannah had waited for the men to come home again. For the first week she had asked her mama about it every day, but by the end of the week Hannah had realized that she shouldn't ask. Mama didn't know when they would be coming home. Her little brother Benjamin had cried but Hannah had not. Instead she had drawn pictures, presents for her papa when he came home.

By the end of a month, the stack of drawings had grown very thick. Hannah had to put them inside a special box. Still, Papa had remained on his trip. Hannah had wanted more paper. Mama had said there was no more left. They hardly went outside anymore because of the war. Most of the stores had disappeared and Mama had said it was no longer safe. Best to stay inside, be good, and pray to God that Papa would be safe. "Will we be safe?" Hannah had asked. "I pray we will," Mama had answered.

Finally Soldiers had arrived and told them that they would all have to leave. Trucks would be coming for them in two days. Hannah hadn't wanted to leave. How would Papa find them? Would she be able to take her pictures? This time she had cried. Mama had told her to be a good girl and take care of her brother so she could clean the house and pack for their trip.

As it happened, trucks had arrived, but there were no soldiers. Instead there was a man named Herr Gottlieb. He wanted to keep the village safe, he said. The soldiers would not keep them safe. He would bring them to a secret place and protect them from the soldiers. And if Papa and the other men ever came home, he promised to bring them all together.

At first Mama and the others had not believed Herr Gottlieb, but the more he had talked, the more they had trusted him. Hannah had liked him right away. There was something about his eyes, a special magic that made her feel happy. Soon everyone had said yes to Herr Gottlieb and they went into the trucks. Extra trucks had carried away the things they wanted to bring -- their clothes, books, toys, pictures. Herr Gottlieb had even let them take the animals. They would be growing their own food by the house, he told them, and so of course the animals should come.

Now, sitting in the chair in the castle hall, Hannah didn't know where their sanctuary was, but it was a good place. She had been there for a long time because it was early spring and she remembered arriving the spring before. It was daytime when the trucks had been opened and they had been let out into the yard in front of the house. None of them could believe it as kindly men in fancy clothes had led them inside and showed them around. Every family would have their own room. There was a kitchen and they would have all the food they wanted. The animals could be taken care of in the yard and they would be keeping the gardens to grow food. Over and over, they were told that they would be safe.

Until Herr Gottlieb arrived that evening, they hardly believed it, but then he repeated everything and made even more promises. His ancestor had come from their village, he said, and even though that was a long time ago, he wanted to help them. Was there anything anyone wanted? Special clothes? Toys? Books? Hannah knew what she wanted and she asked for it right away. The next night Herr Gottlieb came to her with paper and sets of pencils. She never had to ask again. Every time she was about to run out of paper, Herr Gottlieb brought her more. All of them had what they needed.

Sometimes they would even forget that they were still waiting. When would Papa and the others be coming home? When would Papa and the others be safe with them in this nice house?

Hannah watched as the older girls set the tables for the midday meal. Her picture of Herr Gottlieb was almost finished but still, there was something missing. As always, Hannah wondered why he was so hard to draw but she tried anyway. When the call for lunch came, she was concentrating so hard she barely noticed.

"Hannah!" her mother cried.

She looked up and only then did she remember it was time to eat.

She hopped off the chair and began to go to the table when she suddenly heard a sound in the hallway, doors opening and slamming shut. From the far end of the hall, over by the tables, she heard shouting in harsh voices. Men appeared in the doorway. Soldiers. Soldiers like the ones who had come before.

Hannah didn't want to move. She was safe. She was finally safe. And she had almost finished her picture. She wanted to show it to Herr Gottlieb.

The soldiers shouted that everyone would come with them, outside to the garden. Hannah backed away to the chair. The soldiers had not seen her, she was sure of it. She picked up the sketchpad and her pencil and went to the door by the fireplace. Slowly, she pressed the secret button, opened the hidden door, and went inside. It was dark but she was safe.

The soldiers continued shouting. Some of the other children were crying. An old man was arguing and then there was a sound like someone falling, furniture breaking. A woman screamed.

"Hannah!" someone shouted. It was Mama, Hannah knew, but she could not come out. She needed to show Herr Gottlieb the picture. They couldn't just leave!

Still, everyone seemed to be going. Hannah heard the shuffling of feet. The door closed and it was quiet. They must have gone out into the garden. She heard more voices but they were lost in the thick walls. Hannah couldn't understand them and didn't want to. She stayed in the dark for a long, long time.

Finally Hannah was hungry. She hadn't heard anything from outside for a while and so she thought it would be safe to go look or at least find some food. Carefully, she opened the door and stepped into the hall. No one was there as she tucked her sketchpad and pencils under her arm and walked toward the far door.

It was then that she heard a sound. It was a gun. She knew the sound from hearing it sometimes in the village, especially since the war. She heard another gunshot. Then another. Another. As she neared the door, she heard more voices. Upset voices. A small scream.

Hannah decided to go out the other door, the one that led into the hallway. There was a room there that looked out into the garden. She wanted to see what was happening but she had to be safe. The house was safe.

Opening the heavy wooden door, she stepped into the room and crept towards the window. There were more gunshots. Hannah pushed back the curtain and looked into the garden.

The soldiers were pointing their guns and all the women and children were lined up. One by one, they were being shot. A loud gunshot and then a falling body. In the background others were working with shovels. Hannah could see the bodies being put into the ground.

Hannah let the curtain drop. She could not watch this. She would not watch this. After a moment, however, she pulled back the curtain again. Where was Mama? Where was Benjamin? Ah, there they were at the end of the line. They were still safe. Hannah watched as more bodies fell. Little bodies, big bodies, old bodies of grandmothers, grandfathers. She saw Mama. She saw little Benjamin. She saw their bodies fall to the ground. She saw them dragged into a hole.

For a long time she watched. Soon the only people left standing were soldiers. They took shovels and covered over the holes. The sun had almost set by the time they finally left. They didn't come inside again. Hannah heard the sound of trucks in the distance.

She was still safe. But no one else was safe. Where was Herr Gottlieb? She had to show him the picture she had drawn and besides that, she wanted to ask him where he had been? Why hadn't he been there to protect them? Hannah had known all along that Herr Gottlieb could only come to them at night -- it was the only time that was safe, he had told them -- but she had never seriously felt that anything would happen. There were not going to be any more soldiers or gunshots. No more missing people. Where was he?

Finally Hannah went back to the hall and sat in the big chair. She looked at the picture for a long time as she thought of Herr Gottlieb. Why couldn't they all be safe? Her papa, her mama and little Benjamin -- why couldn't they all be safe?

Suddenly there was a scream. It came from the garden. Hannah ran to the room again and moved back the curtain to look. By the light of the moon she saw him. Herr Gottlieb!

By the time Hannah rushed out through the door, Herr Gottlieb screaming again and then wailing. In his hands was a shovel and even though it was dark outside, Hannah could see where he had moved the dirt away. He must have seen the bodies underneath.

Hannah approached slowly. The fresh smell of the garden was gone. In its place was a terrible stink. Everything had been trampled. At her feet, Hannah saw blotches of dark red and brown. She could not go slowly anymore. She ran to Herr Gottlieb.

"Herr Gottlieb, Herr Gottlieb!" she called out, waving her sketchpad. "Oh, Herr Gottlieb, you came back!"

He dropped the shovel and swept her up into her arms with a grip so fierce Hannah was for one moment afraid. A moment later the grip loosened. Herr Gottlieb held her to his chest and began to rock her back and forth. He was crying.

"Herr Gottlieb, did you hurt yourself?" she asked. There was blood on his face.

"No, I'm -- I'm not hurt," he said as he put her down. His face was strange, Hannah noticed. It looked like it had been carved out of something very smooth and white. Even with the blood on it, it was very beautiful.

Herr Gottlieb continued. "And you escaped?"

Hannah nodded. "I was hiding," she said.

"But did you see any of this?" he asked, gesturing to the garden.

"Yes," she said. "I saw it." In her mind she saw her mother and brother fall.

Herr Gottlieb gasped, as if in pain.

"Oh, please, don't be sad!" Hannah said to him. She wanted there to be something happy in the world. She felt very strange herself, almost as if she couldn't feel anything.

She held out her sketchpad to show him the new picture, Herr Gottlieb surrounded by flowers.

He took it in his hands and looked at it. His eyes were still bleeding. He turned through the pages and looked at all of them one by one. It was as if she were no longer there.

At last he took her in his arms again. He patted her head and made a promise to her. "You will always be safe," he said.

* * *

That night Hannah went on another trip. She was with Herr Gottlieb that night and for many nights after. They stayed in wonderful old houses. During the day nice women would give her meals and take care of her as if she were their very own. Herr Gottlieb was taking her away someplace safe.

Finally one night Herr Gottlieb brought her to a house in a city. It was a big city and Hannah knew it was far away because they had gone on a boat. As they stood outside the house, Hannah wondered where they were exactly. This was London, Herr Gottlieb told her. It was a city in England, where there would be no more soldiers and no more trips. She would be staying in London for a long time.

Inside she was introduced to a nice woman and a nice man. The man had a nose like Herr Gottlieb. Even though her mother had said it was no guarantee, Hannah thought the man must be Jewish. In fact she asked him. Yes, he was, he said, of course he was. But that was fine, he said. She would never have to worry again.

While Hannah was growing up, Herr Gottlieb would come by once a month to visit and, always, bring gifts for the family. Hannah always had everything she wanted and her new mama and papa were so kind. Hannah made drawings for Herr Gottlieb, a box full every month.

One night, just as Hannah had finished school, Herr Gottlieb came to her with flowers. He loved her very much, he told her, but it was time for him to go on a trip of his own. He gave her an address for a lawyer so that she could contact him but he could no longer see her. But every month the flowers came and such beautiful flowers they were. Roses, irises, tulips, lilies, flowers of every kind. And of course she had no other worries. Between her family and the money she knew he sent her, she was always able to have everything she wanted. Art school followed years of private lessons. And after that, Hannah became an illustrator. She had her studio in London and the years in Poland were long behind her.

* * *

Joseph re-entered the room. They had been married for twenty years and in all that time, he had never questioned the flowers she received every month. They came from Herr Gottlieb and he knew what Herr Gottlieb had done. He handed the bouquet of yellow roses to his wife.

She thanked him and smelled the flowers. Herr Gottlieb must be getting old, she thought, but his taste in flowers never wavers. She opened the card on which, as always, was written a very simple message: "You will always be safe. - H. Gottlieb."

**THE END**


End file.
